Commemorations
by BlueIrishEyes
Summary: A series of longish DHr drabbles about different holidays. Enjoy! Mother's Day, Father's Day, and now the American 4th of July. Do you have a request for a holiday? Let me know!
1. Mother's Day

Disclaimer: I don't own _Harry Potter_ or any characters, ideas, or plots affiliated with the series. I'm simply exploring them.

A/N: This is will just be a simple compilation of longish DHr drabbles for each holiday, starting with Mother's Day, between the postings of my other stories. The next one will be Father's Day, I think, but I'm really not sure what holidays I will do. I'm totally open to suggestion – do you have a favorite holiday you'd like a drabble about? Let me know and I just might write it.

Anyway, this one is Mother's Day. The lullaby used is called "All the Pretty Little Horses," and I apologize for not knowing the original writer. My mom used to sing this to me when I was little because I was really hard to put to sleep, so that's the inspiration for this. Enjoy!

_---------------------------------------------_

_Hush a bye, don't you cry _

_Go to sleep, little baby_

_When you wake, you shall take _

_All the pretty little horses_

_Oaks and bays_

_Dapples and grays_

_Coach and six of little horses_

The woman's voice was clear and smooth, the words floating off her lips with melodious elegance. The occasional creak of her rocking chair sounded strangely harmonious when it interrupted her song as she sat in a darkened room. The moon cast cool beams of light across the carpeted floor as it crept noiselessly through the window, the blue walls changing the white light to appear a pale gray.

The baby in her arms cooed softly as he reached out a hand to paw at her dangling curls, grasping the shiny tassels in a tiny fist. His cherubic, pinked face brightened in an innocent smile as his mother continued to sing to him. The white-blond wisps of hair blanketing his head stirred as a gentle, cool breeze danced through the room.

Slowly, very slowly, after many long lullabies and reassuring coaxing, the baby's eyelids fluttered and dropped, his pale blue orbs finally hidden from the night.

"Is he asleep yet?"

The woman turned slightly in her chair to face the voice, a relieved smile warming her face, tired eyes sparkling. A man was leaning against the doorframe languidly, his blond hair just catching the most far-reaching moonbeams.

She nodded and motioned him closer with a careful tilt of her head. With soft footsteps, he came to stand behind her, leaning over the back of the rocker. He laid a gentle hand on her shoulder, a tender, uncharacteristic smile lighting his weary features as he gazed into the face of his son.

Carefully, with graceful ease, the woman stood and crossed the room, delicately placing the baby inside a crib. She wrapped a clouded blanket around him as the man came to stand beside her, both taking a silent moment to marvel.

Wrapping an arm around her waist, the man leaned towards her and whispered into her hair, reverence and awe filling his voice.

"You're a wonderful mother, Hermione."

She tilted her head towards him, a fatigued smile flitting across her face.

"Thanks, Draco."

With a last look at their peacefully sleeping son, the young parents turned away from the crib and moved to the door, leaving it half-way open behind them. A few minutes later, the hallway light flicked off, plunging the home into darkness except for the glowing pools of moon across the floor of the blue-walled nursery. The blond little boy stirred in his sleep and rolled over, the wind whispering a soft lullaby as the night wore on.

_Oaks and bays_

_Dapples and grays_

_Coach and six of little horses_


	2. Father's Day 1

I'm sorry for the lateness of the update - this was supposed to go up yesterday. I had it all done and everything, but ff . net was giving me problems and I couldn't login. Sorry again for the wait!

Here's the first of my Father's Day drabble pair. It's my lame attempt at humor that didn't end up being funny, but I hope you still like it!

- - - - - - - - - -

The park was warm and sunny, the early June afternoon brightening the day and swathing the vast lawns in a light, comfortable humidity. A family sat at a table in the park, the wooden, weathered surface covered in an odd mixture of shiny wrapping paper and sandwich remains.

A little girl, her white-blonde curls bouncing energetically as she stood unsteadily on the bench, tugged impatiently on her father's arm.

"Mine next, mine next, Daddy!" she pleaded, an innocently sweet smile illuminating her pastel face.

The man beside her chuckled and pulled her firmly onto his lap, his hair mirroring the exact shade of her own.

"All right, baby. Which one's yours?" Over the table, he met the brown, laughing eyes of his wife and rolled his own sarcastically, a playful smile flitting over his sharp features.

"The pink one, Daddy, with the bow!"

As he pulled the gift towards him, he smiled warmly at his ecstatic daughter and said, the good-natured sarcasm in his voice barely concealed, "How did I guess?"

His wife smiled demurely across the table and softly laughed, the sound like melodious bells.

"Well, go on, Draco. Open it. Don't keep her waiting."

With an exaggerated sigh, he squeezed the little girl tighter and tickled her stomach, evoking a laugh that mimicked the harmonic sounds of her mother.

"Fine, here goes." Ripping the sparkling paper, he slowly opened a white shirt-box. Inside, pink and white tissue paper lay ingenuously, revealing an otherwise empty box. A puzzled expression crossed his face before he turned to the girl.

"Thanks, sweetheart. I've always wanted an empty box and tissue paper."

Hermione frowned. "Draco…" she warned, a light threat tainting her voice.

The little girl pushed away from him, firing a childish glare his way. "No, Daddy," she patiently explained, her voice taking on a bossy tone, "Mommy says you don't smile enough, so I gave you one of mine."

Draco felt Hermione smile, her eyes crinkled in surprised pleasure.

Gently placing the lid back on the box, Draco faced his daughter and pulled her into a tight hug, placing a light kiss on the back of her head.

"Thanks, baby. I'll keep it for always."

Self-satisfied, the little girl replied with a proverbial smirk, "You're welcome."

Later, as the family walked home hand-in-hand as the sun began to set, throwing explosive orange rays over the park, Draco leaned in close towards Hermione.

"I don't smile enough?"

With a sheepish smile, she tilted her face so she could just see him out of the corner of her eye. "Not as much as you could."

He chuckled and whispered into her hair conspiratorially.

"Has it ever occurred to you that I do, in fact, smile a lot, just not at you?"

With an indignant, exaggerated gasp, Hermione yanked her hand away, tossing her head and sending brown curls flying.

"Well, then I guess it's a good thing our daughter has more than enough smiles to go around," she sniffed, hiding a grin that threatened to spread across her face.

With a laugh, Draco scooped up her hand again, kissing her knuckles, and flashed a brilliant smile just for his wife.


	3. Father's Day 2

Here's Father's Day number 2. I like this one much, much better. Let me know what you think. HR, how's this for that angst you requested?

Let's take a vote - since no international holidays are coming up very soon (at least that I'm aware of), what do you think about an American Independence Day (July 4) drabble? I would include typical cultural traditions like picnics, fireworks, etc. All in favor, tell me in a review please! If you don't like that, let me know if you have another idea. I'll try and see if I can get away from child-oriented ones now that the Parent's Days are over.

- - - - - - - - - - -

The grass was wet beneath his knees, damp from the early morning dew. A thin, ethereal mist shrouded all he could see, shimmering and falsely ghost-like.

The world seemed grey, sorrowful and mourning, crying a gloomy lament. Dark trees cast dull shadows across the torpid lawns, the lifeless tombstones standing out of the earth like pale, jagged teeth. The one point of color was a single, blood red rose the blond man held limply in one hand as it curled toward the ground, its emerald leaves brushing against the grave.

_Adeline Malfoy_

"_Addy"_

_Beloved Daughter_

_2002-2007_

The crimson petals contrasted sharply with the black letters written in the stone, mocking the inadequate, dispassionate words. Life next to death, vibrancy beside lassitude, a terrible juxtaposition lying solemnly in the grass.

Draco's whole life had fallen apart, irrevocably torn to pieces. His only child was gone, lost forever into a dark abyss he couldn't fathom. His marriage was suffering, a despairing fissure between them neither he nor Hermione could repair. Where once there had been love and happiness, their home was now filled with anguish and unspoken tension. It was as if the central piece was missing from the puzzle and the picture wasn't whole, wouldn't stay together without that lost piece linking the rest. Their picture was no longer beautiful, complete. It had greyed like the rest of the world, fading into a lifeless, grotesque shadow.

He had known grief before, known what it felt like to be betrayed, abandoned, hated. But this was a grief unlike any other, a pain that stole away his heart and left a gaping, festering cavity in its place. No father should know so intimately the heartbreak of seeing his little girl, his baby lowered into the ground. No father should ever have to realize that their daughter would never leave for the first day of school, never dress up for a ball, never fall in love. No father should ever have to spend Father's Day alone.

It was supposed to be a day of celebration, a time of laughter and cheer, spent with loved ones. A child was supposed to jump eagerly into her father's lap with ready kisses, supposed to give him hand-drawn cards or sing him songs in high, innocent tones. It was not meant to be spent mourning over his child's grave. It was not meant to be a day of tears and heartache.

The sun had just begun to rise, peeking timidly over the hill and showering the cemetery with hesitant, faint light. The coming June day did nothing to assuage his wintry grief, did nothing to quell the cold, relentless storm inside.

A dry sob erupted from Draco's throat as he collapsed across the stone, silent tears creating desperate trails down his face. The rose fell from his hand and rolled away, its effervescent red lost in the deep, unkempt grass. The only color in his life had escaped, drifting away as unattainably as a broken dream, and the world turned grey.


	4. 4th of July

A/N: This is a totally AU piece for the American Independence Day. Happy 4th of July everyone!

"Draco, what are you doing?"

He cast a glare over his shoulder towards her, but quickly resumed his position leaning over the table. The hot sun shone of his light hair radiantly, the brightness giving Hermione a mild headache. Raising a hand to shield her eyes, she moved so that he could see her out of the corner of his eyes, as she knew he would.

He scowled lightly and finished signing his name with a flourish. "I just entered a pie-eating contest."

She cocked a brow in bemusement and placed a hand on her hip. She could feel the back of her neck getting sunburned, and she was quickly losing patience with the bustling people as they went about the 4th of July carnival. She could only take so many screaming children and wizened barbershop quartets.

"You? Why? Do you even know what a pie-eating contest is?"

He rolled his pale eyes at her, as if he was about to chastise a four-year-old. "Of course I know what a pie-eating contest is, Granger. It's a contest to see who can eat the most pie." His tone clearly tacked a "duh" onto the end.

She squinted her eyes in disbelief and allowed her mouth to part slightly. "Then why did you sign up? This is a Muggle carnival, celebrating an American holiday. You're not actually going to participate, are you?"

He took a step towards her, not menacing, just trying to make a point. "Oh, I am going to participate, and I fully intend to win."

Incredulity danced rapidly across her face. "Then why?" she reiterated.

He smirked benevolently, as if seeing something she couldn't. "Does there has to be a reason for everything, Granger?" And with a light laugh, he turned away and wound through the carnival booths, disappearing behind a red-, white-, and blue-painted lemonade stand, his tall form getting lost among the crowd.

An hour later, he waved at her from his seat on the make-shift stage, smirking the same smile and looking completely out of place. Hermione shook her head in exasperation, but sat down in the audience, patiently waiting while the crowd's din died down and a portly man in a tall, starry hat stood up with a microphone grasped tightly in his hand.

"Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to Blue Spring's 45th annual Pie-Eating Contest!" He smiled as the crowd cheered politely, and then continued, speaking about the proceeds and the rules. Hermione tuned him out and crossed her arms over her chest, wearing an odd expression of anticipation and impending hilarity.

Soon, three girls in blue dresses placed several cream pies in front of each contestant, and with the bang of the starter, Hermione watched in amusement as five people dug into their pies. Except one.

Draco politely leaned over to one of the girls, and after a moment's puzzled surprise, the girl brought him a fork and a knife. He smiled at her, and with a wink at Hermione, cut into his first pie.

The first man ducked out at half a pie, eliciting a light-hearted boo from the crowd. Good-naturedly, he held up his hands in defense and laughed at himself. A few minutes later, the only woman in the competition stopped after an entire pie and a half, leaning back in her chair and groaning. Hermione grimaced as the rest of the audience clapped for the woman. Slowly, two more men dropped their hands down in defeat, until it was Draco and one other man – a beast who had been shoveling cream into his mouth by the handfuls, severely disgusting everyone watching. Draco just sat contently and ate his pies one-by-one, lifting dainty morsels to his lips. Hermione wondered at how anyone could look so sophisticated in the midst of an old-fashioned pie-eating contest. Only he could pull it off.

Ten more minutes went by, in which Hermione became bored of watching Draco eat pie, so she was relieved when she heard the announcer's old microphone crackle to life again.

"It looks like we have a winner, folks! Our out-of-town contestant, Draco Malfoy, ate a total of five and three-quarters pies!" The crowd clapped wildly as Draco shook the announcer's hand, a wide, satisfied grin spreading contagiously across his face. With a flourish, the man pinned a small blue ribbon onto Draco's chest and clapped him on the back. Turning back to the audience, the man raised the microphone to his lips and called, "Thank you, all who participated! Have a wonderful Independence Day!"

It took Hermione a moment to find him, but she wasn't surprised at the smirk he greeted her with. Pointing proudly to his chest, he boasted, "I told you I would win."

She shook her head and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Almost six pies? Draco, you're going to be sick!"

He laughed. "I know. It'll catch up to me later. But just look at my ribbon. What a prize!" He grinned at her sarcastically.

"I don't even know why you did it."

He slung an arm around her waist and pulled her close, walking among the booths. "Because I figured it was something you wouldn't expect me to do."

She paused and laughed softly. "Draco Malfoy, that's the lamest logic I've ever heard."

He laughed and kissed her hair. "I know, but as your husband, it's my job to keep life interesting and never cease to amaze you."

"And a vacation to the States wasn't enough?"

"Nope."

She shook her head again in amused frustration. "Well, do you have any more plans to 'amaze' me?" She looked at him pointedly as he stopped pensively at a game booth, eyeing a large white bear that hung from the top. Three milk pins were stacked several feet away in a pyramid, mocking the baseball that sat stoically on the counter.

He turned to her with a smile. "For you? Always." With a kiss on her cheek, he turned to the game worker and handed him a dollar bill, smiling widely.

"I'm going to win my wife a bear!"

A/N: Weird, I know. I just had this image of Draco winning a pie-eating contest and thought it was funny, so here it is. Sorry about any mistakes, I didn't get this one beta-ed. This drabble was totally pointless and not my best writing, but I hope you had fun reading it! Until the next holiday!

BIE

P.S. What is the next holiday I should do? Suggestions always welcome!


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